Wes briefly meets my eyes through the rearview mirror, and I quickly agree, “I’ll be on my best behavior. Just promise me you won’t dry hump some diplomat or the closest human to you with a cock—and most definitely not Wes.”
“With all due respect, Fiona would not look too kindly on that,” Westley insists, making me laugh. His wife is as spirited as my best friend, and even with being familiar with public service, coming from royalty herself, Fiona would have no issue causing a scandal if Aubrey dared touch her husband. Honestly, no matter how much I love my best friend, I’d side with Fiona.
“Wes, you’re like a brother to me,” she grumbles. “I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole. You should be more concerned about how I've been trying learning Spanish as my New Year’s resolution because my app has some hot-as-fuck guy trying to teach me. It’s sexier than any audio erotica I’ve ever heard. Fucking panty melting. So help me if I find myself a man who calls me a good girl with an accent and a slutty little mustache or goatee, I’m toast.”
“Why didn’t you take Spanish in high school like the rest of us?” he asks earnestly.
“Because,brother dearest, my family thought taking French would be a good idea. Joke’s on them. Do you know what I cansay after three years of it? Nothing. The best I can do is order wine, ask where the library is, or tell someone a cat is under the table.” She begins numbering off on her fingers. “I’ve been sober since New Year’s Eve, I’ll never need to ask for a library because I have a map on my damn phone, and I hate cats. So, obviously, three years of my life well spent. Being in California since the divorce, I want to understand more than how to read a menu at a taqueria.”
“So, keep you away from anyone with an accent. Got it,” I tease, and she doesn’t disagree.
We arrive at the airport, and once someone from my security detail takes over for Westley to drive the car back to the residence, we make our way to the line for first-class to check in. There have been whispers and murmurs, despite me wearing inconspicuous clothing. I’m now regretting my baggy sweatpants and a band tee that have seen better days. Aubrey warned me we could be recognized, but I assured her that since we went to the presidential inauguration undetected that this trip would be more of the same.
I hate when she’s right.
The minute we’re checked in, I grab my carry-on and bee-line it to the restrooms to change into something more presentable. With my luck, someone will have snapped a photo of me and I’ll be labeled as something less than flattering, like “frumpy gov,” and go viral. I wanted to be comfortable on the long, nonstop flight, but Tracy will kill me if any pictures get out. I pick out a sweatshirt and jeggings from my bag, and I didn’t realize it at the time when I packed it, but it’s my San Francisco Sea Lions hoodie I wore during one of the last games Phil played in. If he was still alive, he’d be so proud… and also so disappointed in me. I’ve spent most of my life fighting for good, but at the sacrificeof my own happiness. I love being in California. I love the work we’re doing. I love how others are encouraged by everything we’ve accomplished since I was sworn into office. But if he was still here, he’d also remind me to take care of myself.
My heart is still mending from years of heartache between losing Isaac and also Phil. I also don’t remember the last time I took a yoga class. I’m pouring from an empty cup; the mental load is too much. Sure, Isaac and I talk every night—sometimes more than talk—but I need more. I need a real partner; someone to share my life with.
Aubrey and I are very different. My best friend is making her own family because she’s never needed a knight in shining armor, but I want a knight to stand beside me while we battle the metaphorical dragons together. Phil was my knight for a while, and Aubrey is often my knight too. Realistically, there’s very little chance Isaac can be anything more than a long-distance encourager for the foreseeable future. Ned warned me, Aubrey warned me—hell, even Wes has in his own way warned me. As much as I love Isaac, maybe it’s time I let go of the fantasy. The odds aren’t in our favor. It’s not our time. It never is.
We board the plane, and before I switch my phone into airplane mode, I check my messages one last time. There are a few from Tracy reminding me to have someone document our travel today for social media, since she won’t be able to come until tomorrow. I send a quick reply to let her know we’ll take care of it and take a picture of Aubrey and I on the plane. I spot another message from Isaac and try my hardest to stop the little butterflies in my belly, but fail miserably.
Isaac
I’ll be picking you up at the airport.
I thought you said you secured private transportation with no media for everyone attending. You don’t need to come.
Yes, I do.
We’ll just take the transportation your team is providing. For fuck’s sake, you’re the Prime Minister, hosting a huge international event tomorrow.
I’m not picking up the Governor of California, I’m picking up my girlfriend. I’ll see you later, babygirl.
A little notification pops up that his phone is set to Do Not Disturb.
“Asshole,” I grumble to myself.
Aubrey peers over my shoulder. “What’s wrong? Oh. Well, I had a feeling he’d do something like that,babygirl.” She chuckles to herself, pulling out her earbuds and tablet. “You’re going to be in so much trouble with Ned. Under no circumstances are you to ride with that man alone. And girlfriend? Really? Why do I think my job is going to be infinitely more difficult with you putting titles on things?”
“It’s nothing.” The lie tastes sour on my tongue.
“It’s not nothing. Also, there’s a ninety-percent chance we’ll be snowed-in at the hotel, so you’ll basically be living in a damn romance novel with my least favorite trope.”
“How many times have we been told we’d have inches of rain when it barely sprinkles? Storm of the century,” I quip. “We’re not going to get snowed-in. It’ll be fine.”
Aubrey ignores me, putting her earbuds in, and mouthing what I can only assume are Spanish phrases she’s trying to memorize. Thankfully, I sleep for most of the flight, waking up to Aubrey nudging me. We make our way through customs and retrieve our bags, then a man escorts Aubrey, Westley, and me to our ride. As promised, Isaac secured a private pick-up area for us.
There are two black sedans with tinted windows, both have drivers waiting outside of them. One opens the backseat and Isaac steps out, wearing a dark gray suit and my favorite dimples. He’s still clean-shaven but has a bit of a five o’clock shadow. As tempted as I am to drop my bag and run into his arms, he never mentioned briefing the drivers about our relationship.
He closes the last few feet between us as we approach, offering his hand. I take it with a firm grip, but hate the formality. This is how it has to be this week, even if all I want is his lips on mine.
“You really didn’t need to pick us up,” I insist.
He leans in and whispers, “I told you, I take care of what’s mine.”
Goosebumps erupt down my arms at his words. He steps back to shake Aubrey’s hand, then guides me to one of the cars by the small of my back. Warmth spreads throughout my body at the seemingly innocent touch that transports me back to the first day we met.
